


Four Dream Levels Ariadne Designed (And One She Didn't)

by Beckymonster



Category: Inception (2010)
Genre: Angst, Meta, Multi, Zombies
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-01-12
Updated: 2011-01-12
Packaged: 2017-10-14 17:02:31
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,103
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/151503
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Beckymonster/pseuds/Beckymonster
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A look at four dream levels Ariadne designed and a glimpse at what may have been.  Featuring: a zombie apocalypse, an orgy, superheroes, cyberspace and the road not taken</p>
            </blockquote>





	Four Dream Levels Ariadne Designed (And One She Didn't)

**Author's Note:**

> Written for Nugacity as part of the Incept_Santa exchange on LiveJournal

**Zombie Apocalypse**

“You have a touch of red on you,” Yusuf helpfully pointed out, offering Ariadne a scrunched up cotton hankie.

“Please, not you too!” she sighed, accepting the hankie and dabbing at the streak of red sauce by her mouth.

“Why?” he asked, curiously, taking a sip of tea.

“The mark has an obsession with zombies and I’ve been tasked with creating a dream level that looks like the zombie apocalypse has taken place.”

“How different is a zombie apocalypse from a more standard one?” Yusuf asked, pensively. “After all, the Matheison job required an apocalyptic landscape.”

“More dead bodies, infrastructure near enough intact,” Ariadne rattled off, popping a potato chip into her mouth.

“And the zombies,” Yusuf prompted curiously, “Shambling or running?”

“SHAMBLING-“ Arthur yelled from the other side of the workshop

“Don’t listen to that heathen!” Eames stated firmly as he pulled up a chair. “Running zombies are far scarier; especially if you go down the _28 Days Later_ route.”

“Oh what do you know, Eames?” Arthur sniped, “Romero is the godfather of the zombie movie and his zombies shamble-“

“This?” Ariadne began, gesturing to Arthur and Eames settling in for a protracted argument, “Has been my life for the last couple of days.” She turned yearning eyes towards Yusuf, “Take me away from all of this!”

Yusuf laughed uproariously, his tea sloshing in his hand. “I agree with Eames-“

“See!” Eames exclaimed gleefully

“Oh not you too!” Arthur groaned, “We’re going to have to have a movie night – educate you all in the classics”

“That _28 Days Later_ is a good template to use for the dream level!” Yusuf exclaimed, loud enough to be heard over the cacophony of voices. “Danny Boyle is a genius director,”

“Not as good as Romero though,” Arthur retorted.

Ariadne raised her hands to drop her head into them, whimpering quietly.

 

* * *

 

 **Bacchanal**

It surprised Ariadne that she wasn’t called upon to create more dream levels like the one needed for the current job. The look she was going for was part Playboy mansion, part Roman orgy. It at least it was a break from the ‘monotony’ of minimalist hotels and ornate banks.

Still, as the dreamer, Ariadne felt she had done a damn good job on the design. Shame she couldn’t do much about the mark and his ‘projections’.

Going in, she had known that this dream was going to end up looking like something out of a Tinto Brass movie but she hadn’t been expecting it to look like a frat boy’s wet dream. Everywhere she looked, she saw tall, buxom ‘babes’ in various stages of undress and intoxication playing up to the desires of the mark.

Ariadne tried not to let her sensibilities colour her work but for this guy, she’d make an exception. She would start with a knee in the groin on behalf of women everywhere.

Still, she slipped out of the main house, towards the swimming pool and hot tub in the back garden. The night was warm and the pool deserted. The projections hadn’t noticed her or the rest of the team and for as long as that held; Ariadne was going to enjoy her creation.

Since she was alone, there was no one to notice her slipping out of the long, elegant, green dress she’d chosen for herself and into the bubbling water of the hot tub. The dream would continue on without her but she was content to be there, head propped against the side, gazing up at the stars twinkling in the night sky above.

A splash made her start. Quickly Ariadne turned to see what had caused the sound as she ducked further under the frothing water. Dream it may be but modesty was a hard habit to break.

She turned slowly so better to see who it was and so that any unnecessary splashing would be covered by the hot tub bubbling away.

What she saw surprised her.

There were people in the pool. Two people in the pool, Ariadne noticed, two (seemingly) naked people. Who were not projections but her friends, Eames and Yusuf. Chest deep in the middle of the pool.  
They were standing skin to skin, pool water lapping around them, kissing with a tenderness that made her ache.

It was one of the most beautiful things she’d ever seen. And one of the most private as well.  
She turned her head away, regretful that she hadn’t found someone to *be* with her like that. The one possibility open to her was her boss (technically) and co-worker (certainly) and besides he’d never looked at her in that way ever. Not even during the Fischer job, when he asked her for a kiss, so it wasn’t worth the regrets.

As she moved towards the edge of the hot tub to leave it, two things happened at the same time.

Thing one was that the ghostly strains of Edith Piaf were to be heard on the wind. Ariadne cocked her head towards the house. It wasn’t coming from the direction of the house, so yes, it was definitely the kick music.

Thing two was the sight of Arthur running towards the hot tub/pool in a way that signified that he wasn’t alone. Projections were after him and if someone didn’t think quick then this whole ‘evening’ was for nothing.

Thinking quickly, Ariadne stood up and yelled Arthur’s name, wearing nothing but the bubbles from the hot tub. As he changed tack, running towards her, up a flight of stairs, Ariadne applied the second sections of her plan.

As Arthur halted abruptly at the lip of the hot tub, so not to fall in, Ariadne instantly changed the stairs the projections were running up into a Penrose Staircase, leaving the projections to run up and down to their hearts content.  
At the same time, she grabbed Arthur by the front of his shirt, pulling him towards her, into the hot tub.

Gravity and the kick took care of the rest.

When Ariadne opened her eyes, she saw that Eames and Yusuf were both gone, leaving herself, Arthur and the mark in the uptown hotel room. She’d meet with them later at the rendezvous and she would take a moment to tell them that she was happy for them.

“You okay?” Arthur asked as he busied himself removing the PASIV lead from the mark’s wrist. He didn’t meet her eyes.

“I’m fine, you?” she asked as she pushed herself out of the sinfully comfortable leather chair she’d been sitting in for the job. She stepped over towards the mark, bringing her hand up to check his pulse. His pulse was normal, he was sleeping peacefully and would stay that way for another half hour. More than enough time for them to getaway.

“That was some stunt you pulled,” Arthur noted casually, not answering her question, as he visually checked the PASIV over one final time before shutting the case lid with a firm snap.

“It got the projections off your back,didn’t it?” she asked as the mark’s PA and their accomplice on the job came back into the room. She nodded at both of them as she handed the MP3 player to Arthur who swapped it for an envelope filled with large denomination dollar bills.

“That wasn’t what I was talking about.” Arthur stated as he pulled his phone from his pocket. Ariadne couldn’t help but notice that he was turning a rather fetching shade of pink around his ears as he typed in the contact number for their client.

“Oh,” she replied as realisation settled over her, “It was worth a shot,” she stated as she felt heat flow up to her face. She tried not to analyse his response. It got the job done and he didn’t seem to be disgusted by what he’d seen. Far from it in fact if she remembered the surprised and pleased expression on his face as they’d fallen into the bubbling water of the hot tub.

“Let’s go,” Ariadne stated as she picked up the PASIV case and headed towards the door. “We’ve got a drop to make,”

“And dinner to arrange?” Arthur suggested as he followed her out of the hotel room.

Ariadne glanced back at him with a small, hopeful smile. “Perhaps.”

 

* * *

 **Gotham City**

Ariadne stalked through the dreamscape with a determined air and Dior’s finest couture about her. Around her the mark’s projections swirled and parted, letting her walk towards their ‘host’ unimpeded.

“Arthur,” she began, snagging a glass of champagne from a passing waiter, “I never saw you as the comic book type,”

Arthur turned towards her with a small smirk on his face, dressed impeccably in black tie. “Call it the product of a mis-spent youth,” he replied as nodded in passing at one of the mark’s projections. “Never know when such knowledge is going to come in handy.”

“True enough,” Ariadne agreed as she scanned the vast reception hall of the stately home she had created for this dream for familiar faces in the crowd of projections the mark had furnished it with.

Although role playing was more Eames’ speciality, Arthur (as the dreamer) had relished in taking on the role of insanely wealthy businessman/philanthropist/crime fighter, Bruce Wayne.  
Ariadne wasn’t quite sure whether she was Rachel Dawes or Vicki Vale but as long as she didn’t end the night screaming for help, she’d be content.

“Our mark has had business dealings with both Saito and Fischer,” Ariadne noted quietly, taking a sip of champagne. “And I don’t think they came out of it very well,”

Arthur shot her a sideways glance, “And you can tell this how?” he asked, admiration clear in his voice.

“Ras’ al Ghul to your left and two steps behind him, Dr Jonathan Crane aka ‘The Scarecrow’,” she commented, frowning slightly. “Or at least, that’s what I assuming they’re supposed to be.” She turned towards Arthur, open mouthed at her in surprise. “Close your mouth, dear, you’ll catch flies,” she finished, a sweetly sarcastic tone to her voice. She’d read her fair share of comic books too.

“If you dislike someone, you’ll cast them as the villains of your dream,” Arthur noted.  
“Now, let’s see how he sees Eames in the guise of our client,” Ariadne replied quietly, “Will he be friend or will he be foe?”

“That, my dear, is the six million dollar question,”

 

* * *

 

 **Cyberspace**

There was no other way to describe it, Ariadne thought as she stabbed the elevator’s ‘up’ button, she was blocked.

Who knew that creating a dreamscape that looked like cyberspace would be so damn difficult? After all, everyone had seen _The Matrix_ , right?

Everything else was in place but the dream level’s architecture. Simply because every idea she had felt... wrong somehow.

Which was why she was headed up to the roof of the office block they were working in, to get some air.

As Ariadne stepped out onto the roof, it became clear that night had fallen over the city. Not that it could be ever truly dark, what with the skyscrapers and traffic whizzing by below making the city glow brightly in the dark of night.

It was she stared down at the city below, lost in thought, that inspiration struck.

Years ago, while in elementary school, a teacher, Mrs Bridges, had asked her to imagine that information passed around a computer the same way that traffic flowed through a city. The image, weird as it was, had stuck her head for the longest time. And now it had resurfaced.

Ariadne grinned to herself as she walked back to the lift to take her back to her drawing desk. A city of light and information was creating itself in her head and it felt right.

Just as long as she didn’t have to wear black rubber.

 

* * *

 **And One She Didn’t**

 

Every once in a while, Ariadne would wonder what would have happened if she hadn’t returned to the warehouse after her first dream experience.

On an intellectual level she knew that Cobb would have found an architect from ‘somewhere’. One of her classmates most likely.

As to whether they would have succeeded with the inception; freeing Cobb and (eventually) Fischer from their ‘prisons’ of guilt to find peace (and solve the looming Energy Crisis) she didn’t know.

Or maybe they didn’t succeed with the inception. Failure would have exacted a cost that she knew neither none of them could have afforded. Not simply in monetary terms but their lives, their souls.

All she knew was that she didn’t want to ever find out.


End file.
